


the saviours

by lonely_is_so_lonely_alone



Category: Law & Order
Genre: F/M, Post-Aftershock, post-10x05, post-justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27312118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonely_is_so_lonely_alone/pseuds/lonely_is_so_lonely_alone
Summary: After Jamie's disciplinary hearing at the end of Justice, she and Jack go back to the office for a drink.Later, Abbie crashes the party.And as always, things turn back to Claire, the ghost in the walls.- Coda to 10x05, Justice
Relationships: Claire Kincaid/Jack McCoy, Jack McCoy & Jamie Ross
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	the saviours

**Author's Note:**

> Back again with the Jack & Jamie friendship fics! Got to her season ten return and felt like I needed to write this. I adored Justice, it was such a great ep. I'm so glad they didn't destroy Jack and Jamie's relationship for 'drama'. 
> 
> Just heads up, this is a sort of sequel to my other fic 'between friends' but only vaguely. You're probably fine reading this as stand alone. If you're confused by mentions of Washington, please read my other fic!

\- part one -

He sat outside until it got dark. On that bench, right by the door to the disciplinary committee courtroom. He rested his hands on his thighs and sat straight-backed.

There was no leaving. No getting up and cutting out. One of the last things Jamie had said to him was ‘I’m scared, Jack,’ and he’d put his hands on hers because he wanted that to make it better. No more feather light touches, no more raised eyebrows and questions not asked. There wasn’t anything he could say; false promises and hollow affirmations had not served them well before. There was no need for them now.

So he smiled at her. Full faced, up to his eyes. And he hoped that would be enough.

And then he hung around. The sun slipped steady down the sky, hit the horizon, and then it was dark. The bright lights of the corridor hugged him tight, wound around his body. And still he waited. He tapped his foot against the floor. He pulled his tie and then refolded it, nice and neat.

He knew why he was doing this. Deep down, even if his head had told him to leave the moment she walked into the room. He knew. He was doing it for all the times she’d had his back - after Dressler, in Washington. He owed her. He was sure of that. Maybe he’d known it from the moment he met her.

Jamie Ross had saved him. No ifs, no buts. That was the truth of it. Four years and that was the verdict.

She looked ruffled when she finally made her way out. She had her hands still against the buttons of her Jacket, eyes cast down. A judge and a court clerk filed out behind her, but neither gave her a second of notice.

Jamie looked up. She seemed surprised to see him.

‘Jack?’ she said, ‘what are you doing-’

‘I said I’d fight your corner. I know it’s not much, but I thought you deserved some company after that.’

She laughed, and then immediately sighed.

‘They’ll make the judgement by the weekend. There’s some facet of the law they need to explore before a verdict can be reached.’

‘That’s good then?’ he said. She stared at him like he was crazy. ‘You’re still a lawyer, today.’

‘Like that means anything, Jack. Today means nothing.’

He stood up and un-cramped his legs. They stood at odds across the corridor.

‘Today’s the only day you’ve got, Jamie.’

She laughed at that too.

They walked down the steps of 61 Broadway together. Jamie had her briefcase held tight to her side, while Jack had his hands in his pockets. He glanced across at her and thought it’d be a shame for the law to lose her. A fucking shame. She was better than a disbarment, better than a disciplinary committee meeting. Better than him, most days.

‘Do you want to get a drink?’ he asked, at the bottom of the steps. She turned to face him. It was raining, lightly, and it plastered his hair against his forehead like a kid. She had an umbrella, which she raised above her head.

She weighed up his offer. He already knew that Katie was with Neil for the weekend, so that wouldn’t be a problem. In Washington, the last time she had rescued him, she’d drunk and he’d stayed sober. It seemed a long time ago, now.

She seemed hesitant. He raised an eyebrow.

‘I know where Adam hides the scotch,’ he said, and he broke out in a grin.

‘What about you, Jack?’ she said. ‘You hide scotch these days?’

‘Somebody told me it was a bad habit.’

She looked at him through the rain. He saw her decide, her face soften. She stepped closer to him.

‘If it’s Adam’s, then how can I say no?’

They laughed. They laughed all the way to the DA’s office.

Jack cracked open the scotch and poured two measures. He had ‘rescued’ Adam’s glasses and taken the bottle next door the EADa’s office. Jamie was sitting on the couch, across the room. Jack perched on the edge of the desk, and handed her the drink.

He hadn’t pulled the blinds so the city lights spilled into the room and hit his back. He took his tie off with one hand and laid it on the desk, before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. Jamie had put her coat and umbrella beside her on the couch, but still looked put together, even after the hearing.

He’d always admired that about her.

‘How did you know where it was?’ she asked. She held the glass up to the light. She had drunk whiskey in Washington, but he’d never seen her drink it before then.

She sipped at the drink and waited for his answer.

He folded his arms and lifted the glass to his lips. He didn’t want to tell her how. It bubbled at his throat. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she’d ask.

Jack knew he could lie. He could say, easy, that the old man himself had told him. He could draw from the air an excuse like, ‘I saw him hide it there a decade back’. He knew he could lie, but he knew too, that he wouldn’t.

He had told too many white lies to Jamie Ross over the years.

He drunk the whiskey down first, straight back in one. Like liquid courage, right to his blood.

It had been in July, when the sun was warm on the office windows. July and the sun was high and it was early and Jack blinked into the light. He was lying across the couch in Adam’s office and it was silent, apart from the sound of the glass’ clinking, and the warm amber sound of whiskey being poured.

It was seven, maybe eight. He had lost track. Adam’s hadn’t. Adam, who was clear eyed, crystal. Jack had one hell of a headache.

And he watched Adam Schiff put the whiskey bottle behind the third volume of the canon of ethics on the bookcase. He watched it like slow motion.

Then there was a whiskey glass on the arm of the couch and a hand on his back, Adam’s hand.

‘Drink it down, son, you need it.’

Any other day, any other month, any other year of his whole damn life, Jack would’ve laughed right in Adam’s Schiff’s face.

Whiskey at seven am, before a work day’s even got started. That’s a joke. That’s got to be a joke.

But it wasn’t, and Jack McCoy drank the whiskey down like he needed it to breathe.

Adam’s voice came out the haze, something warm and comforting. ‘You’re not working today,’ and it was a confirmation that had been a long time coming.

Without asking, Adam poured another glass and Jack drunk that too and then he laid out on the couch and rested his head on the arm. He curled up there like a kid and Adam was at his desk, scratching notes on to a legal pad. And there was a restful, calming way in that. In the silence that slept next to him.

‘It’s alright, son,’ Adam Schiff said. ‘Sleep now. We’ll talk when you wake up. When you’re sober.’

Later, when Jack pulled the canon of ethics off the wall with Jamie Ross standing beside him, he should’ve seen the question coming.

He looked over at Jamie, still peering dubiously at him across the office. He shifted on the edge of his desk, and rolled his neck until it cracked.

‘We drank whiskey the day after Claire died,’ he said. He forced the words out. The name, Claire, slipped from his mouth like a curse. Jack always felt uncomfortable saying it, especially to Jamie. Jamie who had prised it from him before, once or twice, and she’d been right to do it every time. ‘We sat in his office and I don’t remember much, but I remember where he hid the whiskey.’

Jack was holding his glass to his chest, even though it was empty.

‘I didn’t mean to bring it up,’ he said, quickly. ‘This is not about that. This is me and you, just having a drink. Right?’

She raises an indomitable eyebrow.

‘How often has that been the case, Jack?’ she said. ‘I could count it on one hand.’

He dropped his gaze. Maybe he finally realised that there’d never been just him and Jamie. Not as long as they’d known each other. There’d been Jack and Jamie and the ghost. And he hated it, because it wasn’t fair on Jamie. It wasn’t fair on either of them.

‘Who told you?’ she asked. ‘Who told you about _her _?’__

__He trained his eye on the centre of the empty whiskey glass, Adam’s empty glass._ _

__‘We don’t have to talk about it.’_ _

__‘I don’t mind, Jack.’_ _

__She didn’t say, I’ve been wondering since the moment we met. She didn’t say, nobody’s ever asked you that question, have they?_ _

__But the way she looked at him, leaning forward, arms resting on her knees, he knew she wanted to ask._ _

__‘Adam,’ he said, ‘and Anita Van Buren. They came to my apartment.’_ _

__He was out cold on the couch. They knocked for seven and a half minutes straight. Finally, he had clambered across his dark apartment, blind, and pulled the door._ _

__‘Is there some problem with a warrant?’ he said, bleary eyed, still half way drunk. He couldn’t understand why they were at his door. He’d thought it Claire, too angry to use the key he’d given her months before. He’d been expecting a fight, and here he was fists up, ready._ _

__And then he saw their faces and they were set like stone. There was this awful, cold silence. It stretched and stretched._ _

__Briscoe had called the precinct from the hospital. He made the duty sergeant ring Anita and tell her. She called up Adam, who’d been about to go to bed, slippers on, glasses off. They made a deal, Anita and Adam, in the wake of the news._ _

__They said, let’s tell him together. There’s no easy way. No phone call’ll cut it._ _

__And _him _was Jack.___ _

____It was Adam Schiff who said it. Said those three words that couldn’t be taken back. They were standing in the apartment hallway, and Jack had half his shirt unbuttoned and his hair was wild. The lights were artificial and all too bright._ _ _ _

____It was Adam Schiff who said, ‘Claire is dead,’ and there was no pulling that back. No unsaying it._ _ _ _

____Jack’s knees buckled. He fell against the wall and slid down until he was on the floor._ _ _ _

____Anita crouched beside him._ _ _ _

____‘Jack,’ she said, and her voice had authority, such clarity. ‘Jack. Look at me. I’m sorry. It was car crash. Do you understand?’_ _ _ _

____He looked up from the floor. His gaze swung violently between the two invaders in his apartment. Adam to Anita and neither of their expressions changed. Jack needed them to change._ _ _ _

____‘No,’ he said. ‘No.’_ _ _ _

____And they sat beside him on his apartment floor. Adam’s bones creaked and protested, but they flanked him on the linoleum._ _ _ _

____The lights hurt Jack’s eyes. And he didn’t cry. He didn’t. There was a lump in his throat and he was instantly sober. So sober it hurt his chest._ _ _ _

____He didn’t cry. He buried his head in his hands._ _ _ _

____He said, ‘Not Claire. Not Claire. Not Claire.’_ _ _ _

____He said it a thousand times, but it made no difference._ _ _ _

____Anita called, from far away, ‘Jack, it’s okay. It is,’ and it didn’t seem to matter then that it was a lie._ _ _ _

____Adam put a strong arm on his shoulder, as if to ground them both, and he whispered, smooth and sacred, ‘I know you love her, son. I know it. I’ve always known it.’_ _ _ _

____And that was the kindest thing anyone could’ve said to him, that night. The night that changed his life._ _ _ _

____The night that sent him spinning into the path of Jamie Ross._ _ _ _

____Jamie Ross who sat on the couch Claire had once sat on, who drank Adam’s whiskey like a champ. Jamie Ross who was not Claire, and who would never be Claire, and that was ok. That was ok._ _ _ _

____It should’ve been ok from the start, but Jack had struggled. He’d fought it, the grief and the anger, the unfairness. He’d taken it out on Jamie and he knew it was wrong._ _ _ _

____But it was ok, now, because Jamie Ross saved him. Jamie and Adam’s words and Adam’s whiskey. And Anita Van Buren, too, who drove him to the hospital that night even though it was too late. Even though he didn’t talk at all in the car. Even though, when they sat outside Adam Schiff’s house, having dropped him off, she said, ‘Jack, I’m sorry,’ and he didn’t say anything back._ _ _ _

____He should’ve said, ‘I’m sorry too,’ but he never did._ _ _ _

____Jack shook himself from the memory. He clutched the whiskey glass too tight, so that his knuckles went white. But it grounded him. Back to the office, now, and the ghost was still here - it always would be._ _ _ _

____But there was more. More than a ghost and her memories. More than his memories._ _ _ _

____There was Jamie Ross, sitting across the room from him._ _ _ _

____He cleared his throat._ _ _ _

____‘You were right, you know,’ he said. He put the glass down on the table, and looked over at her. ‘With the tip, with trying to get justice.’_ _ _ _

____‘I doesn’t feel like it, Jack.’_ _ _ _

____‘Don’t let them beat you down,’ he said. ‘You’re a damn fine lawyer Jamie. They can’t take that away from you.’_ _ _ _

____She glanced down, as if she couldn’t quite take the look he was giving her. He watched her drink more of the whiskey, slow, as if to pass the time._ _ _ _

____‘It’s kind of you to say, Jack.’_ _ _ _

____‘It’s true.’ He nodded, as if to add emphasise. And he meant it. Every word. Jamie was being pushed out and she didn’t deserve it. It wouldn’t be right to get disbarred for trying to save a man’s life, for trying to put a wrong right._ _ _ _

____She raised her glass. ‘Let’s just hope the committee see it that way.’ Jamie didn’t sound hopeful. She wouldn’t meet his eye._ _ _ _

____This had supposed to help, that’s what he’d banked on. The two of them, though, they always fell back into old patterns. In this building, on this floor, in this office – it was easy to forget they’d been freed, they’d moved past and got on with life. The lows were gone, they should’ve been._ _ _ _

____They’d got through. And now they were coming for Jamie Ross and there was nothing Jack could do about it._ _ _ _

____He clapped his hands together, loudly, as if to break the melancholy that had fallen._ _ _ _

____‘So, how’s Katie?’ he said. ‘How’s David? Did you tell him about the committee?’_ _ _ _

____He asked too many questions at once, out of nervousness, which he rarely felt._ _ _ _

____Jamie looked up at him and he was grateful that she didn’t ask another question. He loved her for that, he thought. For knowing when to push and when to hold back. She always knew the right thing to say, even if he didn’t want to hear it._ _ _ _

____She said, ‘David knows. And they’re good. Him and Katie.’_ _ _ _

____‘She got tall,’ he laughed._ _ _ _

____Jamie smiled at him. ‘Yeah. Yeah she did. It’s been a long time since you were last around.’_ _ _ _

____They talked for a little about her daughter. About how she was finding school. How much of a prick Neil Gordon was, about how David - who was now Jamie’s husband - hated how cold New York winters were._ _ _ _

____They talked and it was easy. It was the way she had looked at him the day she left the office and knew that he’d be ok without her._ _ _ _

____They talked and drank Adam Schiff’s secret whiskey and he thought, this was the first time they’d sat together in this office and there hadn’t been work on the table - there weren't court transcripts or motions crowding the sides._ _ _ _

____It felt like celebrating a victory._ _ _ _

____In the end, they could’ve talked away the night. He sure could’ve. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to apologise for._ _ _ _

____But they didn’t. Because there were footsteps in the corridor, and the squeak of the floorboard half a yard down the hall. There was the door handle shaking, and opening._ _ _ _

____There was Abbie Carmichael, in the doorway._ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____\- part two -_ _ _ _

____Jamie hid the whiskey glass out of habit, even though it was empty. She pushed it between two pillows on the couch and turned to look at whoever had broken the moment._ _ _ _

____Jack was busy fumbling with Adam’s whiskey bottle, eyes down. Jamie looked between him and the girl in the doorway, no more than a shadow with dark hair, holding a stack of files in her arms._ _ _ _

____Abbie. The next. The replacement. They’d met a handful of times over the course of this case; just meetings, hearings. They’d stared each other down from either side of a courtroom. But the introductions had been short and sweet, clipped like wings._ _ _ _

____Jack sprung up, like an excitable puppy. While Jamie was glad he wasn’t the depressive drunk she remembered him to be, she was seriously doubting his ability to carry himself like he’d not been drinking whiskey all evening._ _ _ _

____‘Abbie!’ he said, crossing the room, trying too hard. Jamie had always known he was a showman, in his office and in his work, she never realised until now how much of that was a front, a show not just for a jury or a defence lawyer, but for himself - for whichever ada had the balls to sit beside him._ _ _ _

____You wouldn’t think he’d spent time talking about his dead ex tonight. Before, Claire had sat heavy in this room, on his shoulders. You could see him carry it, the weight of that sadness, that loss. It wasn’t something a quickly plastered smile could fix. Jamie wondered if that meant he was feeling better or if he’d just learned to lie better._ _ _ _

____He reached to take the files out of Abbie’s hand, but the other woman just took a step back. For Jamie, it was like sitting in the audience for a play where Jack didn’t know any of the lines._ _ _ _

____‘They’ve got to go to the mailing room on sixth,’ Abbie said, lifting the files up. ‘They’re discovery for the Lister case.’_ _ _ _

____Jack nodded, slowly. ‘Let me take them,’ he said, earnestly. ‘It’s late. Let me.’_ _ _ _

____Abbie swung her gaze round the room. It landed on Jamie, square on. The younger woman shifted her weight from foot to foot, then dumped the files into Jack’s arms and said, with a laugh in her voice. ‘Have fun!’ and the sarcasm of it made Jamie laugh._ _ _ _

____Jack dragged the files towards the door and shot a look back into the room when he stepped into the hall. He looked straight at Jamie and she wished she could work out what that look meant - but she’d been decoding Jack McCoy for nearly half a decade now and she knew she’d never really know. He shifted his gaze to Abbie and then back._ _ _ _

____And then he nodded his head, resolutely, and headed down the corridor to the elevator. Jamie wondered then if he’d been looking for a third figure, a ghost he’d never be able to find. There was Abbie and Jamie and _her _and no matter if Jack couldn’t see her, Claire Kincaid was in that room - she was, in the empty whiskey glasses and open blinds. In the questions that Abbie Carmichael was halfway to saying, already.___ _ _ _

______The younger woman strode across the room with her arms folded. The ding of the elevator signalled Jack’s exit._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I heard you were up in front of the committee this afternoon,’ Abbie said, to try and cut the tension._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jamie nodded, but didn’t say anything. Abbie paced with her arms still folded. She tried to pretend she wasn’t looking at the couch out the corner of her eye._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Do you like working for him?’ Jamie asked, gesturing at the door and after Jack. This was her attempt to push through the awkwardness. Not to talk about the ethics of the law, not to drag the committee back up from where she wanted to bury it. But to Jack. Their common ground._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘He’s fair,’ she said, on balance. ‘A good boss.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Abbie walked over to the desk and picked up Jack’s empty whiskey glass. She turned around holding it in her palm. ‘However, he’s never offered me a drink.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No?_ _ _ _ _ _

______That took Jamie back, just for a second, but she didn’t think over it long because Abbie Carmichael was already there, like a rottweiler, with another question._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I didn’t realise the two of you were so close,’ she said, and now she was fiddling with a pen she’d picked up from Jack’s desk._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jamie shrugged. It wasn’t an easy question to answer, and Abbie couldn’t know that. It wasn’t a yes/no thing, because there was close - like, let’s see each other for dinner every week, - or there was whatever Jack and Jamie had become. With secrets spilled and the truth laid out like map, and they were friends, but maybe they were saviours first. It was a bond they’d never break, she’d have her eye on him for the rest of their lives. There was no getting out now, because she cared and he cared._ _ _ _ _ _

______So maybe that was close. But it wasn’t a friendship she had with anyone else. Built from pain, from silence and never saying. From ghosts and grief - those kicked puppy eyes. From wanting him to be alright, because you shouldn’t throw your life away even if you can’t see the way out._ _ _ _ _ _

______They were rock bottom, for each other. Him after Claire and her after the divorce. And they pulled each other up, even when it hurt, even when he wouldn’t pull his own weight. They dragged themselves out of it, and here they were, drinking whiskey and talking - really talking - because there was nobody else in the world who really understood what the bottom really felt like._ _ _ _ _ _

______But that didn’t exactly fit into a quick, snappy, response. Jamie shrugged again. She said, ‘Yeah. Maybe,’ and it was non-committal, deniable._ _ _ _ _ _

______Abbie picked up Jack’s glass and put it back on the table with the whiskey bottle._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Does he keep this here?’ she asked, and that’s when Jamie realised that Abbie was on the other side of this. She was new, and maybe Jack had tried to push her away - maybe he hadn't even realised that he was doing it. Jamie knew there was whiskey in the office less than a week after arriving. He offered her a drink about a hundred times in the first few months. Every victory, every loss. There he was with the whiskey._ _ _ _ _ _

______And maybe he’d stopped drinking. He’d certainly stopped asking his ADA to join. Abbie had been here over a year, and she still didn’t know a damn thing about her boss._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I didn’t see you at the desk, when we came in,’ Jamie said, instead of answering the question. ‘It’s late. What are you still doing around here?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Just getting some paperwork done,’ Abbie said, with a shrug. ‘I was in my office.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘You’ve got an office?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Sure, down the hall, second on the left.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______For some reason, the office felt like a sticking point. It was like the room itself sat between them._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Did you not?’ Abbie said, straight up. She couldn’t see why it was a problem, and for a moment Jamie couldn’t understand why it seemed odd, either._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I…’ she stuttered, ‘no. I had a desk. The other-side of the glass, outside Jack’s.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Abbie nodded. She looked like she couldn’t care less about where Jamie’s desk had been. But that was it, wasn’t it. Jamie’s desk. It hadn’t just been hers, had it. It had been Claire’s too. The desk she’d shared with the ghost. And maybe she’d just expected Abbie to carry the weight of that, too._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Who’s idea was the office?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Kind of mine,’ Abbie said, shrugging. She was still fiddling with the pen from Jack’s desk. ‘It’s just an office, Ms Ross.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______And Jamie laughed. Abbie looked at her like she was crazy._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Oh, I know,’ Jamie said. ‘Just an office.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______They waited for a moment. Both listened out for the disrupting ding of the elevator which would summon Jack back into the conversation. But it didn’t come. There was only the empty quiet of the office late at night._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘You do know,’ Jamie said, quickly, before the courage left her, ‘about what happened to him?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______And Abbie froze for a moment. She looked up, and her eyes were wide with confusion. Jamie thought, how easily the eraser had been over this place. Jamie had carried the pain with him and now it was like it had never happened. He pushed it down, tried not to hurt anyone else with the silence and whiskey, with the never saying._ _ _ _ _ _

______But it marked Jack McCoy, as easy as breathing. Jamie thought there was no getting away from it, not as long as he lived._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Claire Kincaid,’ Jamie said, ‘The ADA before me.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘What about her?’ Abbie said._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘You really don’t know?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I mean. He talked about you a lot. Jamie this, Jamie that. I thought you’d been with him a while. I never asked about before.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______That made Jamie hesitate, just for a moment. Abbie had come from narc, and if she’d come from anywhere else Jamie would’ve shook her shoulders and said, how could you not know? But maybe it was an oversight, maybe Abbie Carmichael had been so glad to get her own office she hadn’t cared who she’d be working with._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Surely you knew his reputation?’ Jamie said, with an eyebrow raised._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Sure.’ Abbie shrugged. ‘He’s charming, attractive, but have you ever seen a lady killer so sad before? I thought it was a joke.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘It’s no joke, Abbie.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Are you the testament to that? Are you here to warn me about the way Jack McCoy will break my poor, precious little heart?’ Abbie spoke skeptically, a smirk on her face. She thought she had it sussed. Jamie couldn’t help but laugh._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No - no,’ she said, waving her hands. ‘Not me.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘This other ADA, then?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Yes.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘And Jack broke her heart?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jamie shook her head. Abbie seemed surprised by that. ‘She broke his.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Clean, right in two, she thought. Snapped._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Big shock.’ Abbie shrugged her shoulders. Then, she took a step forward and said, quickly, out of some concern for Jack, ‘She’s not going to come out the woodwork and-’_ _ _ _ _ _

______But Jamie was already jumping in. Her words were sharp, sudden. Maybe Jamie was worried Jack would step out of the elevator and listen to this conversation. Maybe she wanted him to do that, to understand how it was to be after._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘She died, Abbie. Twenty eight years old and she died.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Abbie whistled, long and deep. ‘Shit,’ she said._ _ _ _ _ _

______And maybe it felt good to say that to someone else. Because Jamie had been holding up that weight, that history, for all these years. No longer was she the only other ADA, no longer was she the only replacement. Abbie had the job, she had inherited the history of the position, even if she hadn’t known it._ _ _ _ _ _

______Claire Kincaid was their ghost, in their office and in their boss. They shared it, shared Jack. Maybe they didn’t share a desk, maybe that had been a step too far. Jamie wouldn’t have put it past Jack to burn the damn thing, just to exorcise some of the silence._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I didn’t know,’ Abbie said, at a loss._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I never knew her,’ Jamie said, ‘but god, Abbie. You should’ve seen him.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______She wondered which was easier for Jack - to have Jamie at his side and know she knew, that she had seen him at his worst and stuck by, or to have Abbie, young and bolshy and forthright. To have Abbie who, until this moment, hadn’t known._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Don’t let it change your opinion of him, though. He’s still Jack McCoy. He’s always had the law.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I won’t,’ Abbie said. And the way she said it, felt to Jamie like there was something clicking into place. Maybe it was something he’d said once, or the way he’d acted once upon a case. Maybe things fell, like a puzzle finally revealing itself. The part of Jack McCoy he kept hidden._ _ _ _ _ _

______They didn’t get to talk anymore, because the elevator ding echoed out into the empty corridor. Jack’s insistent, half drunk footsteps sounded like gunshots in the quiet._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then he was at the door. Jamie and Abbie stopped in their tracks, each looking up at Jack McCoy, framed there in the light. He seemed not to notice the atmosphere, and he was smiling, right to his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’ll get going, then,’ said Jamie, standing up. ‘David will be wondering where I’ve got to.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Abbie didn’t say anything, but dropped her gaze to the desk, to the pen she was still fiddling with._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’ll walk you out,’ said Jack, rolling up his sleeves. Jamie thought he’d regret that, given it was November and the air was still thick with rain._ _ _ _ _ _

______But she smiled back at him and said, ‘Yes, that would be nice,’ and they left Abbie Carmichael with the ghost in the office and headed for the elevator._ _ _ _ _ _

______Once the door was shut, he kept pressing the button for the ground floor. Once, twice, three times. She reached over to stop him._ _ _ _ _ _

______They kept going down in silence. He folded his arms and she heard him sigh. Maybe he was tired. Jamie was. It’d been quite the day, all in all. The committee, Jack searching her out - whiskey in that office, with Abbie and Claire’s ghost. Jamie was ready to get into bed._ _ _ _ _ _

______They climbed out the elevator and walked towards the main doors. Jack pushed them open so they could get out, and it was even colder out than she was expecting._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’ll get a cab,’ she said, guessing Jack’s next question._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I’ll wait until you get one, then.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘You don’t have to.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘But I will.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jamie smiled at him then, and put her hand on his arm. She said, ‘Thank you, Jack.’ and she blamed it on the whiskey, but there was something like tears in his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

______A cab zoomed past but didn’t stop. The two of them walked closer to the kerb._ _ _ _ _ _

______Headlights swung into view. Jamie raised her hand and looked back at Jack._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘You told her, didn’t you?’ he said, softly. ‘Abbie. You told her about Claire.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jamie hesitated. She looked right out into the street at the passing cabs._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Yes.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I didn’t realise I kept it a secret.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______She turned to him then. Jack had his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. The rain was coming down harder. She handed her umbrella to him and he took it wordlessly._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Thank you for staying with me,’ she said, and she was talking about the committee._ _ _ _ _ _

______He put the umbrella up, so it covered them both._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Thank you for staying with me, too.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______The rain came down harder._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Do me a favour, Jack,’ she said, as cab saw her signal and started to come to a stop at the street side. ‘Don’t push Abbie away.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______He nodded._ _ _ _ _ _

______The cab was at the kerb now, and Jamie leant down to open the door._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Keep the umbrella,’ she said, looking back at him across the rain and the darkness. ‘Give it back to me when we see each other again.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______And there was a promise in that, a promise that this wasn’t the end. That after all this time, after everything they’d been through, their friendship would endure._ _ _ _ _ _

______Through ghosts and white lies, through disciplinary committees and drinks offered and rejected. All the way to his insistence that he didn’t need a second chair and her stubbornness in not walking away._ _ _ _ _ _

______Back and back and back._ _ _ _ _ _

______They endured. Through it all._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘See you soon, Jamie,’ he said._ _ _ _ _ _

______She climbed into the cab and opened the window even though it was raining._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘See you soon, Jack,’ she said._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then she disappeared into the night._ _ _ _ _ _

______She wondered, absentmindedly, as she raced across New York, how long he would wait on the kerb before going back inside to Abbie Carmichael._ _ _ _ _ _

______She wondered how long Claire Kincaid’s ghost would be beside him._ _ _ _ _ _

______And most of all, she wondered how long it would be until she got her umbrella back._ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments make my day much brighter. I love to know if you've enjoyed it!


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